


Feral!Keith

by Artesima_darkstar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Champion Keith (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feral Keith (Voltron), Fever, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, M/M, Scared Keith (Voltron), Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 06:21:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30068004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artesima_darkstar/pseuds/Artesima_darkstar
Summary: After years of Galra imprisonment, Keith is nearly feral by the time Voltron finds him. Can Shiro bring him back from the edge?
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	Feral!Keith

Keith is nearly feral by the time Voltron finds him. He’s barely human. A pitiful remnant of whoever he was before the arena. Now he’s a number. 118-7655. Or if the guards were feeling particularly sentimental, Champion. When he hears footsteps coming down his hall, he moves from his languid position laying on the floor of his cell, to a squatted attack position. He bares his teeth when the small Terran comes into his view. He flings himself against the bars, rattling them and drawing a squeal out of the small creature in front of him.   
“Shiro, I think I found Keith,” they called down the hall. Keith doesn’t know what a ‘shiro’ is, but if they were looking for him, it couldn’t be good. He flings himself at the bars again, tearing open a gash across his shoulder, dripping fresh blood over the rusted bars. The small creature approaches him without minimal fear, looking like they planned on touching him. When the hand comes close to his cage, he snaps his jaws at them, attempting to catch the small hand between his teeth. She pulls back.   
“Shiro, I think something’s wrong with him. He doesn’t recognize me,” she says. He can hear heavy footsteps of someone much larger than the small one in front of him. Keith stays posed at the edge of his cage, ready to attack if the option prevents itself. The larger one comes into view, and Keith gets a vague sense that he knows this one, but he can’t put his finger on it, so he growls and shows off his sharp teeth again, more than ready to take a bite out of anything that comes close enough. Shiro crouches down beside the bars, eyes looking so sad. He doesn’t reach out.   
“Keith, what did they do to you?” he asks, voice barely loud enough to be heard. Keith sits back on his feet and watches Shiro. Maybe he would have an opportunity to escape. He hears his fellow prisoners milling around in the hall. One walks up to the two Terrans.   
“Black Paladin, do not get so close to the champion. He is little more than mad,” it warns. Shiro turns on it, eyes flaring with anger.   
“That is the Red Paladin of Voltron you’re talking about. We leave no man behind,” he says. The other ducks its bulbous head in apology.   
“I was unaware. Forgive my ignorance,” he says. Shiro does not respond, turning back to Keith.   
“Hey buddy, are you ready to get out of here?” he asks. Keith tilts his head to the side. They were letting him go? Just like that?   
Shiro stands and uses his bionic arm to snap the lock on the cage and opens the door. Keith crouches and edges out, eyes everywhere at once, waiting for the other shoe to fall. They had let him ‘escape’ before, only to intercept him right before freedom and send him to some fresh level of hell.   
“Alright. Is that everyone?” Shiro asks. He must receive some form of affirmation. “Move out,” he says, having the little one who he calls Pidge lead the way while he takes up the rear, following just a few steps behind Keith, arm glowing a deadly purple. 

They find no resistance on their way back to the ships. He pauses when he sees a legion of giant lions standing proudly on the deck of the giant ship they were leaving. Shiro comes up behind him and puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder, only for the smaller man to whip around and slash at him, cutting gashes down Shiro’s arms, cutting straight through his paladin suit. Shiro gasps in pain and shock. He looks truly hurt by Keith’s reaction, but Keith glares and bares his teeth until Shiro backs away, taking charge of separating the prisoners between lions to be able to get them all off the ship and somewhere safer.   
Shiro puts Keith in the black lion. He isn’t happy being put in a small space with so many other creatures. The Galra had moved him to his own cell when they decided he was too dangerous to be around the others. They wanted to keep them around for amusement, not have them all mained and killed before they even had a debut in the arena. Keith finds a dark corner where he can hunker down and defend himself from the others moving around in the ship. Anytime someone gets too close, they get a nasty scratch to remind them to keep their distance. No one comes close twice. 

When they land, everyone trickles out until the only two left in the black lion are Keith and Shiro. The older man is more wary as he approaches Keith this time. That satisfies Keith. Shiro squats down to be level with him before speaking.   
“We have arrived on a friendly planet. We are setting up healing pods for any who need them. You are welcome to leave Black and go explore, stretch your legs or seek any medical attention you may need,” he says, eyes full of love and a deep, deep sadness. Whoever Keith was before must have been very important to the Black Paladin. He gives a jerky nod, but waits for Shiro to back away before he carefully stands up. He staggers and clutches the wall for support as his vision fades to grey. When he comes to, Shiro is leaning over him, hand on his forehead. Keith bares his teeth and takes another swipe at Shiro. It appears the other didn’t learn from his first run in with Keith’s claws, but Shiro catches his wrist.   
“You won’t catch me by surprise again Keith. I’m the one who taught you how to fight,” he says. He releases Keith’s wrist and helps him stand, only to be shrugged off once Keith is more stable. Keith growls.   
“I’m sorry, Keith, if I had realized you were in such bad condition I would have insisted you be seen by our doctors immediately, I’m sorry I made you suffer,” Shiro says. Keith glares at him. Shiro doesn’t flinch. He lets Keith walk by himself, but is never more than an arms length away, ready to catch Keith, should he collapse again. Keith sits where there are plenty of empty chairs around him. He growls when Shiro sits beside him. He isn’t deterred. Shiro hands him a plate of food. Keith has no idea where it came, but he’s too hungry to care. He tears into the food, only taking enough care not to choke. He isn’t sure when he was last fed, but it must have been a while. Once the food is gone, he is handed a pouch of water, and he takes it without question, draining it in a couple long droughts. By the time he’s finished, he feels a little more sane, less like he should kill everyone around him.   
“Feeling better?” Shiro asks him. Keith stares down the other. Shiro doesn’t look away.   
“Yes,” Keith growls hoarsely. He can’t remember the last time he spoke. Shiro is obviously taken back by his voice.   
“Good. I’ll take care of you, Keith,” he promises. Keith is skeptical, but follows Shiro. He freezes at the pods. He can tell Shiro wants him to go in, but Keith shakes his head violently. When someone tries to push him in, Keith flings his weight around until he gets free. He takes off toward the woods. No one would be able to find him once he got in there. He hears someone running after him, shouting his name, but Keith doesn’t look back. 

It takes Shiro the rest of the day to find Keith again. He almost forgot how hard it is to find the guy when he doesn’t want to be found. Eventually, as the sun is starting to go down, Shiro finds Keith curled up in a tree. He sighs and sits at the base.   
“Hey, buddy, you wanna come down?” he asks. He doesn’t expect it to work, and it doesn’t. Keith stays in his tree, where he feels safe. Shiro sits in silence for a few minutes as he tries to think of something to say.   
“We can go get some more food. Hunk made some of your favorites,” he bribes. Keith shifts and Shiro knows he has the other man’s attention.   
“Come on down and you and I can go get something to eat. No one will make you go in a pod and most of the others have left to find places to stay for the night. It’ll just be us,” Shiro promises. He hears rustling, but doesn’t look up, just moving away from the base of the tree so Keith can jump down. The smaller man does and lands silently in the grass without so much as a grunt. Shiro notices a couple bleeding gashes on Keith’s arms and wonders how many more there are hidden under his prisoner’s uniform. He wouldn’t try and put Keith in a healing pod again, but he would need to clean and bandage them.   
Keith steps up even with Shiro. He’s still on edge but seems content to walk beside Shiro, even if he limps.   
Shiro settles Keith in a chair and wanders off to get some food and a couple water pouches. He comes back with a couple plates and sets on in front of Keith, who tears into it like he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see food again. 

That night, when the paladins and Keith have returned to the Castle, Shiro has Keith sit on the bed in his room while he goes to get the first aid kit. Shiro comes back with the bright red bag.   
“I know you don’t want to go in a pod, but you’re going to have to let me clean these up before they have a chance to get infected and make you really sick,” Shiro says, squatting down in front of Keith. Keith doesn’t move. He stares at Shiro like he doesn’t really understand what Shiro’s saying. He hadn’t planned for this, but it seems that as the shock settles in, Keith seems less and less lucid, like he’s regressing. Shiro pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long breath.   
“Alright, let’s try this again. I’m cleaning your cuts, so you don’t get sick,” he says. Shiro thinks he sees a light of comprehension in Keith’s eyes so he takes that as his permission to continue. Shiro helps Keith out of the torn purple shirt and throws it off to the side. Shiro would throw it out an airlock or something later. He frowns sympathetically when he sees the state of Keith’s upper body. Most of his body is marbled black and purple with lacerations crisscrossing.   
“This is going to hurt,” he says as he wets a cloth with warm water and starts to wipe down Keith’s chest shoulders. He’s careful around Keith’s ribs. More than a few seem to be broken. Shiro is quiet while he tends to Keith. Once the wounds are cleaned, he dresses them carefully and adds some of a weird pink Altean numbing gel on his chest and shoulders. Shiro rocks back on his heels and looks at Keith. He looks tired. He has dark bruises under his eyes and his skin is sallow and grey. He looks sick. Shiro stands and comes over to Keith. He runs his fingers through Keith’s hair. He’s ready to have to defend himself from flying claws or a well aimed bite, but Keith goes lax under his hands and sags against the wall. Shiro smiles at his small victory.   
“You’re looking rough, hotshot, how’re you feeling?” he asks, hoping Keith will be willing to answer him, if he even could.  
Keith coughs a couple times toward his lap to try and clear his throat, but it stays dry and sore from dehydration and disuse.   
“Hurts,” is the only thing he can manage, as rough and raspy as he is. Shiro hums.   
“I bet it does. Do you want me to get you some pain medicine? You’re feeling a little warm too,” he says pressing a hand against Keith’s forehead.   
“Yeah, I think you got yourself a little fever spitfire,” he says before brushing Keith’s hair out of his eyes. Keith nods an affirmation and Shiro reaches down to grab some medicine out of the bag.   
“I doubt you can swallow pills right now, so I’m gonna use this instead,” he says, mostly to himself. Keith looks at the small tube Shiro holds. It doesn’t look too scary.   
“Do you remember how this works? I’m going to press it against your leg and it’s going to administer some medicine. It doesn’t hurt, but it is cold,” he warns, pushing Keith’s pants out of the way and administering the medicine to the inside of his thigh. Keith whines and shivers. Shiro laughs.   
“I warned you it was cold,” he says. He leans forward and kisses Keith’s forehead.   
“I’m right across the hall if you need me. Try to get some sleep. I’ll come get you in the morning,” Shiro promises before leaving the room and retiring to his own. 

Keith isn’t sure what time it is when the pain comes back and wakes him up. He looks around for Shiro. Good things happen when he’s around Shiro. He’s fed, his wounds are tended to, he is comforted, his pain goes away. He needs to find Shiro. His mind flashes back to what Shiro told him earlier that night. ‘I’m right across the hall if you need me.’ He would go across the hall and he wouldn’t hurt so much because that’s where Shiro is. Keith drags his aching body out of the bed, wincing and sucking in a breath when his ribs jostle and throb. He coughs a couple times before setting his jaw and walking across the hall to Shiro’s room. Keith lets himself in the room and frowns at the sound of roaring echoing through the room. He creeps in the room, poised to attack whatever it is that is hiding in Shiro’s room. He can’t let Shiro get hurt. Shiro protects Keith. Keith will protect Shiro. After stalking the perimeter of the room and checking in every nook and cranny, Keith hasn’t found the monster. He edges closer to Shiro’s bed and realizes the sound must be coming from Shiro. Keith wrinkles his nose up at the unpleasant sound, but he sits beside the bed and lays his head on the edge of the mattress. He’s careful not to wake Shiro. His pain doesn’t ease, but he does feel better. His headache eases and when he closes his eyes, he falls asleep immediately. 

Shiro wakes up to a surprise the next morning. He jerks back and hits his head against the wall. He grunts and rubs the back of his head. Keith sits up at the sudden movement. He’s bleary eyed and confused, but he doesn’t look upset.   
“Hey, Keith, when did you come in here?” Shiro asks, reaching out a hand to stroke Keith’s sleep mussed hair. Keith shrugs and looks at Shiro with concern.   
“Why do you roar when you sleep?” he asks. He wants to make sure Shiro is okay before doing anything else. Keith protects Shiro. Shiro looks confused for a few seconds before he turns pink.   
“Oh, the uh, the snoring. Uh, how do I put this so you’ll understand?” he runs a hand through his hair as he thinks, “When I sleep it makes my nose all stuffy so I can’t breathe very well. The noise comes from air trying to move through my sinuses,” he says, hoping that’s simple enough for Keith to understand in his confused state. Keith’s face screws up, thinking about what Shiro said.  
“That’s bad?” he asks. Shiro shakes his head.   
“No, it’s not bad. I don’t even notice it,” he assures Keith. Then he turns the conversation on his confused friend. “So why did you come looking for me in the middle of the night?” he asks. Keith cocks his head.   
“Hurt,” he says. Shiro nods. He should have known the Altean medicine wouldn’t last as long with Keith’s Galra genetics.   
“You could have woken me up, I would have gotten you more medicine,” Shiro says, reaching out and touching Keith’s forehead, “Your fever’s back too,” he says. Keith ducks his head, looking chastised.   
“No, I’m not mad at you. I just don’t want you to hurt,” Shiro assures him quickly. Keith looks up and nods. He doesn’t want to hurt anymore either. Shiro stands and stretches before offering Keith a hand up. He’s careful of the other’s tender ribs. They slowly make their way to the dining area. The only person already there is Hunk, getting breakfast ready.   
“Good morning, Shiro. Hey, Keith,” Hunk says with a bright smile. He looks slightly wary of Keith but hides it pretty well.   
“Good morning, Hunk. Do you know if we have anything like tea I can give Keith for his throat?” Shiro asks, keeping the details to himself.   
“Yeah, totally. I’ll get a kettle going,” he says.   
“Thanks Hunk.” Shiro settles Keith into a chair and moves to sit beside him. Keith is nervous being out in the open. He’s ancy and tapping constantly on the table. Shiro knows the rhythm. It’s the guards rotation. He tapped out the same rhythm for months after his rescue, and he wasn’t gone nearly as long as Keith was.   
Shiro sets his hand on Keith’s knee only for the younger man to jump violently. Shiro takes his hand back and holds it where Keith can see it.   
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologizes. Keith nods. He understands. 

Hunk brings a steaming mug of tea over and sets it infront of Keith, careful not to touch him.   
“Here go, Keith. Hope this’ll help you feel better,” Hunk says. Keith doesn’t respond. Hunk looks hurt, but Shiro sets a hand on his arm.  
“Give him time. It’s the shock,” he whispers. Hunk nods and gives Keith a sad look. Keith takes a big gulp of the tea and then winces. Shiro can’t help but laugh. He disguises it as a cough.  
“Did you burn your tongue? You have to drink it slow, it’s hot,” he says, rubbing Keith’s back. Keith tenses but doesn’t pull away. Sipping the tea helps soothe his throat. He damaged it extensively yelling the first year he was there. Keith isn’t sure if it will ever heal. He may never sound the same. Keith lists against Shiro, eyes half closing, and what’s still visible is hazy and unfocused. Keith is obviously exhausted from his ordeal.   
“Come on, let’s get you some medicine and then you can go back to bed,” Shiro says, helping Keith stand. It obviously brings the younger a lot of pain, but he bears it quietly.   
Shiro has Keith lay on the bed and goes to get more medicine.   
“It’s gonna be cold,” he warns before applying the medicine. Keith shivers, but otherwise doesn’t react. Shiro presses a hand to Keith’s forehead. His fever still wouldn’t break. When he goes to take his hand away, Keith catches it in his own, tugging it back to his forehead.   
“Cool,” he says in explanation. Shiro smiles.   
“Well if you like that,” he says switching hands so the bionic one is pressed to Keith’s forehead. The chrome fogs up from the damp heat. “How’s that?” he asks. Keith’s mouth drops open, showing his fangs in what Shiro thinks is supposed to be a smile. Shiro situates himself behind Keith and props the other up against him. Keith makes a happy sound, a little high on pain relief and closes his eyes. Shiro is content to sit and watch over him the rest of the day. He’ll protect Keith, nothing like this will ever happen to him again.


End file.
